


the Sinners and Sinned Against walk the same road

by risettes



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Akechi Goro Needs a Hug, Angst, Canon Compliant, Flashbacks, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Introspection, Mental Health Issues, Nature Versus Nurture, POV Akechi Goro, Pre-Slash, Reminiscing, Third Semester (Persona 5), and then some fruity bastard from inaba wrecks your entire world view, excessive cursing bc it's goro, like a lot of them... this is a goro fic, no beta we die like kunikazu okumura, when you're conditioned to think you're an irredeemable monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27234898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risettes/pseuds/risettes
Summary: and a small voice from his shoulder whispered: "how do i learn to live when i only know demise? how do i become human?"he laughed, and stroked the boy's head. "my dear, that's what you've always been."
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Akechi Goro's Mother, Akechi Goro & Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro & Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 1
Kudos: 57





	the Sinners and Sinned Against walk the same road

Goro impatiently looked down at his watch. 23:56. Christ, he needs to get back to the apartment. He barely managed to switch his attention back to Joker’s voice before he heard an “Alright, let’s adjourn for today.” Good. He can finally get out of here.

As he stood up to leave, however, Sakamoto shot him a blatant distrustful glare. Well, he supposes that’s fair enough, but is it truly necessary? Well, that’s no matter. It’s not like he’ll be around to…

Well. That’s no matter.

Kurusu seems to think there’s a matter though, as he swiftly grabs his vanguard’s wrist, murmuring something below his breath. Sakamoto rolled his eyes but nodded at whatever his leader told him, getting his wrist back and walking out of Leblanc beside Takamaki, who had been curiously watching from the doorway.

The jingle of the Leblanc door calmed down. A dead man walking and the one who could never die, standing and sitting.

What a curious situation. Goro took a seat across from his… rival? No matter. He sat down.

He looked into Kurusu’s eyes, searching for a sign of _anything,_ but he’s as infuriatingly in control of his emotions as ever. The slate grey eyes twinkle with amusement, but they show none of his cards. Well. Time to get more direct.

Goro leaned forward, just barely controlling himself so as not to slam his hand on this dubiously stable table. “Why the _fuck_ do you keep doing this, keeping up this facade?”

As if Kurusu couldn’t get any more annoying, he simply tilted his head in quiet confusion. Goro fucking hates that look.

Red hot anger started rushing towards his mouth with Goro unequipped to stop the vitriol likely to come out of his mouth. Here we go. “Joker, leader of the _Phantom Thieves,_ ” he sneered. “I thought you were smarter than this. I thought you _knew_ what I had done. Are you just a fucking imbecile?!”

Kurusu looked at him plainly, eyes betraying him by showing a hint of pity. Fucking _pity?_ Christ.

“Why the hell do you still choose to defend me?! Do you just have a death wish?”

Silence. Pity. Goro’s _sick_ of pity.

“God, you’re a joke. You know I killed them willingly, right? If you had some little preconception that I was poor little Akechi, forced to kill by his big bad dad… You’re more of an idiot than I thought.” Goro scoffed, self-mockingly. “You know, I don’t even know how many people I’ve killed. Sure, I have the backlogs of every hit I was ordered to do, but you know there were always casualties. Your teammate’s sister was one of them, and it’s half of the reason we’re in this goddamn mess, to begin with.” He stopped. Kurusu looked sad. That… was not the intended response. Well. No matter.

“You need to stop. I’m not some excusable person, I’m a _monster._ Let them hate me. _You._ Should hate me.” Goro trailed off, all the earlier furious steam leaving him a shell again. He collapsed back into the booth.

He looked back at Kurusu. The boy sighed, and sat up in his seat, just a bit. Finally, a reaction.

Kurusu cleared his throat and started speaking in a low voice. “I read this book once, for a cultural studies course. It was heavy, but there was one quote that stuck out to me from it.” He locked eyes with Goro, leaning in and folding his arms on the table. “You're not the Sinners. You're the Sinned Against. You were only children. You had no control. You are the victims, not the perpetrators.” Goro stiffened, but Kurusu kept talking.

“That’s pretty much how I view how you were as a fifteen-year-old going to work for Shido. Sure, now it’s different but… Aren’t you still that same kid? That got fucked over continually by an uncaring society with no support?” Kurusu leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s how I see it.”

The sinner… and the sinned against. Well.

Sure.

* * *

Goro remembered this. Seemingly insignificant but impactful, nonetheless.

A younger, cuter, more hunger-pang Goro Akechi walked up to the cashier, delicately placing a single instant noodle on the too-high counter. The kid carefully took out 180 yen, putting it down ever so softly, assumedly to not make any noise. He’s… maybe six years old.

The cashier stared at the child before him, barking out an incredulous laugh. He picked up the spare coins and frowned. “This isn’t enough.”

The child’s eyes widened in horror. “W-what?”

The voice got angrier. “This isn’t. Enough. Prices went up last week, little man. Pay up or shut up.”

The child deflated. He silently grabbed his coins from the mountainous counter and walked out the door to the tune of the cashier’s carefree whistling and his stomach’s growling.

Goro… remembered this too.

Wakaba Isshiki’s shadow loomed in front of him. She had always been short, but Goro was even shorter. Just barely 15 years old. Isshiki turned around to see that baby-faced teen shakily holding a gun to her chest. She blinked.

“Well, this was always coming, wasn’t it?” She averted her gaze from Goro, looking off into the distance behind the child hitman. “I hope Futaba will be o-”

Bang. The shadow dissipated. Goro fell to the floor.

His screams rang out throughout Mementos.

A landlord attempting to proposition Goro’s mother to finish the rent payment so they wouldn’t be evicted. They stayed at that apartment for his entire childhood. 

Kasumi Yoshizawa’s death at the hand of a mental shutdown victim. Sumire’s delusions were a result of his own actions, not just that god-complex bastard.

His entire class stealing and breaking his pens and pencils once they heard what his mother did for a living, claiming his things weren’t bought with clean money.

Subway accidents. The hundreds of deaths, thousands of injured. Goro doesn’t even know their names.

The only times that Goro would be able to be clean were when his mother had clients over at their tiny apartment and told him to go to the bathhouse. He never felt clean. No matter how many times he furiously scrubbed his bony skin, he always felt the grime and muck of his cursed existence.

He calmly walks down a small staircase with a slight rhythmic flair. The steps are made of concrete, so they can’t even creak under the weight of his hops. How unfortunate. He always thought that the noises of a staircase added character. Oh well.

He strolled into the underground hallway. Practiced nonchalance, practiced bloodthirst. His leather shoes, stained with blood. Or, about to be. What’s the difference? He walks by Sae, taking a quick glance at Kurusu’s phone. Small inconveniences. His head already aches.

He welcomes the security guard into the interrogation room. He shoots him in the chest. Goro vaguely recalls that that’s his first in-person kill. Hmm… No. He wants his first to be Kurusu, so he’ll make his death quicker than the guard’s.

He monologues. What is he saying? Something, something, _justice._

Kurusu looks entirely blank. Have more of a reaction, will you?

After all… this is where his justice ends.

He shoots him in the skull. Kurusu slumps onto the table. Small miracles, the blood didn’t actually get on his shoes. He arranges the body and leaves the bodies behind.

He puts his hands in his pockets to make them stop shaking.

Goro walks home from school. Scabbed, knobby knees. Beat up shoes. He’s alone, but when isn’t he? It’s not so bad. His mom’s supposed to be home today, so maybe she can help him with fractions? He hopes so.

As he gets closer to his apartment complex, he notices a few cop cars. It’s not surprising, giving where he lives, but Goro likes noticing things. His mom calls him her little detective when he does that, and it’s some of the only times he sees her smile. He’ll tell his mom about it when he gets inside.

He hops up the unstable stairs, cringing at the scary creaks and groans they make when he jumps from one step to the next. If he ever lives somewhere other than here, he hopes the stairs don’t make noises.

He fumbles with his keys a bit, but when he goes to reach up to the door handle, it’s unlocked. Strange. His mother doesn’t make these kinds of mistakes. Maybe she just got back, or just left?

He opens the door and

Oh.

He

He sees

…His mother’s body hangs lifelessly from the ceiling. She’s. His mom is.

Dead.

Bang. His heart shattered. Goro fell to the floor.

His screams rang out throughout the apartment complex. His hands can’t stop shaking.

* * *

Goro blinks. He’s at Leblanc. He checks his watch. It’s 23:59. He’s… crying? He’s crying. Why is he crying. There is no fucking room for _tears_ in a mon-

“You’re not a monster, Goro,” Kurusu–no, Akira– gently whispered. “You’re human, too.”

Oh. He’s… human. 

Goro had forgotten about that. He– he isn’t…

He vaguely saw a blurry outline of Akira stand up and switch sides of the booth to sit next to him. “It’s okay, Goro. You can be human, too.”

Goro’s vision got blurrier. He leaned on Akira’s shoulder and sobbed.

It’s midnight.

**Author's Note:**

> goro brainrot go BRRRRRRR yeah... this entire fic is based off of the quote akira says from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy. very heavy but really good book, i recommend!
> 
> yeah follow me on twitter for more screaming [ @balloonra](https://twitter.com/balloonra)


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